


We're Just One Big Family

by khasael



Series: Hale and Hearty [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Betting Pool, Breaking the News, M/M, Pack, Pack Meetings, Sassy Cora, Stiles Regrets Asking Peter About Things, Stiles' Friends Suck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 13:34:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1984842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khasael/pseuds/khasael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, Scott knows. They'd probably better tell the rest of the pack, then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Just One Big Family

**Author's Note:**

> I said that I was considering adding a few more installments to this series, after people were so nice about asking for them, and, after some thinking and plotting, it turns out there will be...more than I originally anticipated (especially since the series was conceived as complete in 6 parts). So, here you go: the first of the new installments.
> 
> The first 6 were titled after lines from Bruno Mars' "Marry You," if you happen to be unfamiliar with the song (as I was, before a former co-worker played it all the time and I got whapped upside the head with the series plot bunny). The remainder of the series installments are/will be titled using lyrics from a song that pops up in part 4 (probably much to Derek's embarrassment) :)

Stiles is pretty sure everyone knows something is up within seconds of arriving at Derek's place.

If the scent of anxiety that's probably floating around him isn't a dead giveaway, it's the way Scott's sitting over at the counter, slumped over on a bar stool with his head buried in his arms, refusing to talk to anyone in favor of hiding like an ostrich. No, like a particularly dramatic toddler—no, an aggrieved bunny rabbit, maybe. Something pathetic and sort of pouty and in denial. Whatever. Stiles isn't going to waste time on figuring out what sort of creature Scott's resembling at the moment—other than to mutter that it's certainly _not an alpha werewolf_ —because he's got other, more important things going on right now to focus on.

Like not blurting out this specific bit of news for the second time in under a week.

Maybe he should have taken his Adderall today. Only he tends not to mix his ADD meds with cold meds, because they make him feel funny. And not in the good way that seeing Derek smile at him or hearing the little noise Derek makes when Stiles shifts in bed in the morning and takes the opportunity to lightly scrape his fingertips against the tattoo on Derek's back does. 

Fuck it, tomorrow he's off the cold meds, lingering cough or no, and Derek can deal with the scent of menthol or eucalyptus for a few days. Yeah, the cough is annoying as shit, but it's not like he's got pneumonia or anything. That, he's sure of. He's also pretty sure he's going to have to get used to being sniffed for the scent of infection or serious illness for the rest of his life. He wonders if Scott or Isaac does that to Allison. Maybe he should ask her sometime. They could have a support group for the human significant others of werewolves. Hell, maybe there is one, online. #SpouseOfWerewolfProblems or something.

Yep. Adderall tomorrow.

Isaac is the first to arrive at the loft, as far as those who don't know what's going on are concerned. Technically, Scott had been the first to arrive, beating even Stiles. Derek had sort of just turned to Stiles as soon as he walked through the door, given him a silent look that pretty clearly said _this is **your** best friend here, please fix him so he's not flopped dramatically over my counter, because I can't even begin to deal with this, and he should know this is not behavior becoming of an alpha_ , and pretty much thrown his hands up in the air and just walked away for a minute.

Stiles is getting pretty good at reading some of Derek's expressions, if he does say so himself. He wasn't terrible at it before, really, but he feels like he's come a long way in the almost-week they've been married. Maybe he puts a few more words into the descriptions than Derek would, but whatever. Derek is never going to be exceptionally verbose. Stiles can live with that. 

Stiles, however, much to his dissatisfaction, was not able to fix Scott. Even Isaac notices, because the first thing out of his mouth, other than a hello to Stiles and Scott, is a tentative “what's up with him?” as he gestures at Scott's hunched back. 

Scott only lets out a noise that's half grunt and half whine, and Stiles can't hold back from rolling his eyes. “He'll be fine. Just ignore him.” He concentrates on not bouncing his knee up and down and tries to give Isaac his best casual expression. “Derek's around somewhere, but we're still waiting on the others.”

There's something like fear that flits across Isaac's features, warring with curiosity. “Do you know what this sudden pack meeting is about?”

There's not even a point to lying, because Isaac may not be as good at the werewolf instincts thing as Derek or Scott, but he's got enough of the basics down that he'll hear the lie in Stiles's heartbeat in about half a second. “Yeah, I've got a pretty good idea.”

“It's not that Wendigo face-changing thing, is it? Or its friends, I mean, since Scott killed that other one. Because one of those was enough for me.”

Stiles suddenly remembers that the last time he and Derek saw any of the rest of the pack, save Scott, was out in the woods, after Scott had killed the shit out of whatever that creature had actually been that had almost eaten Stiles. He and Derek might've done some pretty life-changing things in the last several days, especially as far as their trip and the activities they'd indulged in while away are concerned, but for everyone else, it's been business as usual in Beacon Hills. “Oh, yeah, no. No, I'm pretty sure we don't have to worry about more of those things showing up,” he says earnestly, one hand popping up to rub at the back of his neck before he can even think about it. Thankfully, it's his right hand, which is ring-less. 

Isaac's face relaxes a little, but he still looks curious. And also maybe a little suspicious, though that could just be Stiles's paranoia creeping in. “Yeah, that's good,” he says, and Stiles is grateful to be saved by the front door opening once again, until he sees Lydia walk in close behind Allison, and his nerves sort of amp themselves up again.

It's not like he's even thought he had a chance with Lydia in any sort of real way for the last couple of years now—really, that had pretty much been over when she and Jackson had flung themselves at each other at the tail end of that Kanima mess, and he'd been pretty fucking sure of it by the time she'd shoved him under the ice water during the Nemeton sacrifice thing. He feels a little spike of fear and anxiety at seeing her walk through the door to Derek's place, but he can recognize it for what it is—and what it's _not_.

It's not the fear of _what if I've made a mistake_ or _how am I going to tell her I'm not holding this torch/hopelessly infatuated with her anymore_. It's the fear that he's going to say or do something to clue her in on what everyone's here for before Derek even opens his mouth to share the news in whatever way he's got planned. 

Basically, he's afraid that he's going to be Stiles, and she's going to be Lydia.

He swallows hard and looks around for Derek. And then promptly _stops_ looking around for Derek, because that might clue her in, too. 

She looks at him for a long second, head tilted a little, as if she's trying to divine something from his posture, and he gives a weak smile, tries to ignore her quirked mouth and short, considering hum, and then breathes a not-exactly-subtle sigh of relief when she follows Allison into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator to grab a can of Diet Coke.

Stiles is inordinately glad Derek keeps his fridge and cupboards stocked with snacks and drinks for the pack.

Ooh, also, maybe Derek thought to restock the Doritos? He'll go hunting for them later. Now is the time for sitting still and being quiet.

Stiles is trying not to chew the inside of his mouth to shreds when someone drops a can of Pepsi directly into his lap and leans over the back of the couch and into his space. It catches him completely off-guard, because he knows: one, it's not Derek, since they've said they were going to try not acting any different around everyone until they'd actually _broken_ the news, and Derek just bringing Stiles a drink, unasked, is not _entirely_ unprecedented, but it's not common, either, and two, it's hard to catch something that lands dangerously close to your junk when you're trying not to let anyone see your left hand. 

Allison, fortunately, does not seem to notice anything off in the clumsy way Stiles flails on the couch. “Heard you weren't feeling well the other day,” she says, climbing over the back of the couch and settling next to Stiles with a stupid amount of grace. “Any better now?”

Stiles nods, managing to hold and open his soda with one hand like a boss. “Yeah, much. Just the flu, y'know.” He tries for casual, gesturing over to Scott. “Why aren't you over there instea—I mean, why is it I get the pleasure of your company?”

Allison rolls her eyes at him. “Nice rephrasing. Also, I may love him, but Scott's been in a really weird mood for the last couple of days. I'm trying to give him some space so I don't wolfsbane his ass.” The way she says it is totally joking, the same sort of sarcastic thing Stiles might say sometimes, but it still feels a little weird when he remembers she was brought up by Hunters. Oddly, it also sounds less threatening than most things Lydia says off-hand, so that probably says something right there about the people Stiles chooses to hang out with.

“So, he hasn't told you what's wrong with him?” Stiles asks, playing with the tab on his soda can, because it's one of the few ways he can allow himself to fidget right now. 

She shakes her head. “Nope. I've tried everything to get him to spill it. He just gives me this kicked puppy look, or says nothing's wrong, but he's not exactly a great liar, you know?” She takes a sip of her own drink and shrugs. “I figure it's either whatever Derek wants to talk to us about tonight, or he'll crack eventually. He can barely keep from telling me what my birthday presents are, seriously.”

Stiles sort of wants to thank his best bro for keeping their secret even from Allison, but figures he can do that later, after the meeting or something, when everyone else is out of earshot. Also, he wonders if Melissa is the reason Scott's kept the secret, because she can be kind of scary when she wants to be, and it seems like something she would have demanded after they'd left Stiles's place the other day. “Yeah, don't I know it.” It's not like Scott _hasn't_ managed to keep secrets or lie successfully, but it's just not in his nature. He's got one of those open-book faces, in a totally different way than Stiles has been told he does. 

It's not until Peter comes strolling in a good fifteen minutes after Derek's asked everyone to be there that Stiles realizes it's going to happen. Derek looks annoyed, trailing after his uncle, who basically ignores him as he listens to whoever's on the other end of his phone. Stiles catches Peter's sort of lazily-drawled “well, you know how we Hales like to make an entrance, my dear,” as he walks over to lean against the counter where Scott's still perched, and by the look on Derek's face as the person on the other end of the line responds, Stiles can only guess it's Cora he's talking to.

“I figured my darling niece deserved to be included in this little pack meeting,” he tells Derek casually, waving his phone in front of him, and Stiles gives himself a little mental point for being right about that. “Since you insisted we _all_ needed to be here, and you told her you had something you needed to tell her as soon as possible via voicemail.” 

Stiles is willing to bet Peter's innocent face isn't actually innocent at all. Though what he thinks Derek is going to be sharing with all of them is sort of beyond Stiles's imagination.

“Five voicemails,” Cora's voice corrects through the speaker of Peter's phone. “Sorry, big brother. This part of Argentina doesn't have a lot of cell phone towers. Peter just happened to catch me on a trip into the city. If it's not the same news, I can just call you back after the meeting.”

Derek clears his throat and looks a little worried. Stiles is actually kind of surprised Derek hasn't told his sister yet. Then again, it does sort of explain why Derek keeps checking his phone for messages, and why Stiles hasn't been on the receiving end of any angry or incredulous texts from Cora, who does still sort of keep in touch. “It's the same news,” he says after a minute, and Stiles takes that as his cue to sort of sidle over to Derek, now done with the pretense of putting his empty can in the recycle bin. 

“And that is...?” Peter asks at the same time Lydia huffs “So out with it, already!” Stiles may be nervous, but he can still sort of appreciate the way they glare at each other over being the ones to badger Derek about this.

There's another beat of silence, and Stiles wonders if Derek's trying to remember a speech he's written in order to break the news gently, when Derek just, well, _says_ it. “Stiles and I are married.” That's it. He doesn't hem and haw, doesn't sugarcoat it, doesn't reach for euphemisms. Stiles feels a little better about blurting it out by accident to Scott and Melissa.

“I'm sorry, I was using the shooting range before I got here,” Allison laughs after what seems like a deafening silence. “I think I need new ear protection. Because I thought you just said—“

“We're married,” Stiles says, cutting her off. “Derek and I. We're married. Legally. As of...” He does some quick math. “Five nights ago.”

“You're married.” It's Lydia who repeats it, and Stiles knows she's looking for some sort of crack in their story, like it's a joke she just needs to unravel or something, and Stiles maybe sort of brandishes his left hand and wedding band like it's the proof she needs.

“They're married.” This time it's Scott who states it, like maybe hearing it from the pack's official alpha will be the assurance they all need.

“Scott, buddy, way to join in with the rest of the group,” Stiles can't help saying. “Next time, maybe sound a little less upset about it? I dunno, just for starters?”

“Well, it _is_ sort of a shock,” Allison begins, giving Scott a supportive and suddenly understanding look, but she's cut off by the person not even in the room. The one, Stiles realizes, Derek's been waiting to hear from.

“Jesus, Derek, you could have at least _told_ me you were thinking of popping the question.”

Derek's face goes pink, and everyone else swivels their heads to look at Peter's phone, which is just sort of lying there on the counter next to Peter's hand, like he forgot he'd been holding it.

“I didn't. I mean, I wasn't—” Derek starts, but Isaac—quiet, generally-thought-of-as-shy-and-sweet Isaac—steamrolls right over Derek's fumbling excuse.

“Wait. Who won the bet?”

Stiles spins and glares at him. “No one! No one won any bet! Scott lost, because we're not just maybe sort of tentatively dating in the immediate time before I leave for college. And _you_ lost,” he continues, pointing, “because I did not get drunk and pounce on him.” There had been pouncing, yeah, sure, but that had been in their hotel room, they'd already been married, and Stiles hadn't been drunk. It had technically been before the champagne, even. “So there.”

Derek rolls his eyes, but Stiles will let him have that.

“So then, how'd you end up married less than a week ago, when we've never seen you so much as hold hands?” Allison asks. 

“We drove around after killing that face-changer on Wednesday, got married on Thursday, came back on Friday, and now we're here, okay?” Derek says, looking like he actually wonders how they're not all just caught up and cool with everything, even though they know none of the details. Actually, that's a pretty typical Derek thing, now that Stiles thinks about it. Less now than it used to be, but still not out of character.

“Is this why you were asking me about human-werewolf sex a few months ago?” Peter asks, and suddenly, the room is an entirely different kind of uncomfortably silent. “You wanted to know what you were getting into, before the big night? Or has there not been a big night yet?”

“No! What? No!” Oh God, Stiles regrets ever asking Peter anything. That had been much more about reading too many weird things on the internet and trying to figure out which things turned him on and which grossed him out and which things were actually real, so he didn't do something stupid and start some courting ritual by accident, and yeah, okay, maybe also to enrich his fantasies a little, give them some sort of basis in fact. “I mean, no, that's not why I asked, but yes, we've, uh, yeah, you know...” He turns to look at Derek, giving him a desperate, pleading look. “A little help here?”

Derek holds up his hands. “You're the one who went and asked Peter for sex details. I don't know if I can help you on this one.” 

Stiles feels only slightly vindicated when Lydia manages to somehow sneak up behind Derek and snag his hand to examine the ring Stiles bought. He also thinks it shows how very much Derek has grown up about a lot of things that he doesn't even wolf out or try to throw her through a wall when she does it, and instead just gives her one of his patented glares.

“So... putting that line of questioning and thought behind us,” Cora's voice says loudly and authoritatively, and Stiles sort of loves his sister-in-law for getting him out of that conversation, “ _where_ exactly did you get married?”

“Las Vegas,” Derek says, still looking a little grumpy at the way Lydia is examining his ring, and trying to eye the one Stiles is wearing without physically assaulting him as well.

Lydia drops his hand at the same time Cora cackles. “Seriously?” Lydia mutters, shaking her head and stalking back to where she'd been sitting with Allison. “Vegas?”

“What?” Stiles and Derek ask, totally in unison, which should not make Stiles feel so pleased, but totally does. “Too cliché?” Derek asks, eyebrows up high.

“No, it means Cora won the stupid bet,” Isaac grumbles, flopping onto the floor.

“What?” Again, in unison.

“I had Vegas elopement,” Cora says, and there is nothing short of glee in her tone of voice. “Oh man, this is totally worth the roaming charges for this phone call. All you fuckers had better pay up when I get back to Beacon Hills.”

“Were you _all_ in on this betting pool?” Stiles asks, only just able to stop himself from wailing it. “Seriously, you all totally suck.”

“I wasn't,” Allison says, raising her hand awkwardly. “But, um, I knew there had been talk of one, at one point?” She sighs, like now that the secret's out, she may as well admit everything. “I didn't join because I really didn't think you'd ever like each other that way. Also, Derek, I didn't know you were into guys at all.” She looks apologetically at Stiles. “It wasn't that I thought you weren't the type someone could be into or anything, so don't be offended.”

Stiles moans. “Yeah, thanks, Allison. Peter? What about you? No money on this?”

Peter chuckles. “Oh, I put up money. But it was more on the side that my nephew would never get his head out of his ass, or that you'd do something stupid or foolhardy and get yourself killed long before he realized his head was even up his ass about you. I might've had a secondary wager that you'd finally push him to his snapping point and he'd be the one to end your life.”

“Out.” It's one word, said at normal conversational volume, but everyone's eyes snap to Derek anyway. There's something like fire in his eyes, some sort of look Stiles thinks everyone would be really fucking stupid to mess with.

“Derek, we didn't—” Isaac tries, but Scott shoots him a look and shakes his head.

“I said 'out',” Derek repeats, and that's pretty much all it takes to send them all shuffling to his door. None of them look _afraid_ so much as apologetic, and Allison even whispers a congratulations to them as she squeezes out the door. Stiles tries to smile at her, because at least she wasn't betting on his love life like the rest of them who _didn't even clue him in that maybe he and Derek could have something_ , and he thinks he even sees Derek nod, but that could just be a tightening of his jaw. Lydia murmurs something about the rings not being tacky, at least, but the rest of them just leave. Peter smirks his way out, his phone back up to his ear. Isaac looks remorseful more than any of the others, and Scott at least pauses long enough to awkwardly clap Stiles on the back before he pulls the front door shut behind him, and Stiles feels a little bad for everyone, even if they are all awful.

“Derek, look, I know they all kind of suck about this, but you can't stay mad at them forever about it, they're _pack_ —”

Derek pulls him in sharply, making the breath catch in Stiles's throat. “I'm not really all that mad at them right now.”

Stiles blinks. That is not exactly what the look in Derek's eyes says, or what his ordering everyone out of the loft seemed like. “No offense, but you look kinda intense about _something_ , and you did just demand they all leave...?”

Derek grins, and there's something predatory there that reminds Stiles of their wedding night. “Maybe I just realized we only have a few hours before we have to have a very serious and potentially uncomfortable dinner.”

“Yeah, and? You're sending mixed signals here, dude.”

“And we haven't been alone in this loft since we've been married.”

“Oh. _Oh._ ” Stiles gets it. He totally does. He'll blame his slowness on any residual cold meds that might even potentially be in his system. He pulls Derek against him, slides his hand up underneath his shirt, and hums when Derek groans and arches into even that touch. “Well then. What are we waiting for?”

**Author's Note:**

> Don't kill me for leaving off there XD If you're wanting more smut, I can promise there will be more in the not-too-distant future :)
> 
> If you're the type who _must_ know how long the series will be, I can tell you it's fully plotted and titled and everything at... eighteen total installments. *cringes* Updates will be fairly sporadic, but shouldn't be _too_ drawn out (maybe a fic every 5 days to 2 weeks, but it depends pretty heavily on my ridiculous work schedule and access to free time where I can sit down and also connect to the internet when my beta is free in her own schedule).
> 
> And really, thank you all for your support and interest in this universe. It's been a ton of fun to work on and think about what comes next for these two ♥


End file.
